


Not the Music in Me

by rionaleonhart



Category: High School Musical (Movies), Supernatural
Genre: Bodyswap, Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-04-29
Updated: 2008-04-29
Packaged: 2019-07-08 01:50:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15920478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rionaleonhart/pseuds/rionaleonhart
Summary: Sam and Dean switch bodies with Ryan and Sharpay Evans. If they want to switch back, they're going to have to get the lead roles in the school musical. Obviously.





	Not the Music in Me

It starts like this:

Sam and Dean are in Washington, checking out a small town named Forks. Dean has been making puns on the name for the whole of the past two days. They’re not funny. Sam would insist on leaving, but they’re pretty certain there’s a nest of vampires around here somewhere, and the lives of the students in the local school are worth more (but only _slightly_ more) than finally getting Dean to stop saying that he hates this forking town.

They’ve managed to track down the location of the nest, and they’ve been working quickly and quietly, using dead man’s blood to keep the kills almost silent and avoid waking up the other vampires. It’s a shame they end up having to kill the hot chicks so often, Dean thinks regretfully, decapitating a stunning blonde.

Ryan and Sharpay are in East High, auditioning for the latest school musical, twirling and leaping and singing nonsensical Latin lyrics. By a remarkable coincidence, their dance routine and the Latin words Ryan strung together because they sounded vaguely cool just happen to exactly match the words and motions of an ancient ritual.

These things happen, right?

-

Okay, so one second Dean’s advancing on the final target with a machete in his hand and a glint in his eye, and the next he’s spinning around, flailing in shock and falling gracelessly into the arms of some kid in a stupid hat. He stares around wildly, looking for Sam, the vampire, some sort of sign to tell him what just _happened_.

It appears that whatever just happened has somehow teleported him out of the warehouse. He’s pretty sure that’s not a good sign. Either that or he’s lost all his memories from ‘approaching vampire’ to ‘twirling around on stage’, and that’s not good either. A lot can happen between approaching a vampire and twirling around on a stage. Why the fuck would he be twirling around on a stage, anyway? Where’s Sam?

It occurs to Dean that maybe memory loss is some freaky side effect of becoming a vampire or something. Even if it’s not, it’d probably be a good idea to make sure that he hasn’t become one in the time he can’t remember. He looks down at himself, checking for unexpected pallor, and discovers unexpected breasts instead.

Right. That’s a problem. Better than being a vampire, but still pretty worrying.

He looks up at the kid with the hat, who’s still supporting him. He looks pretty much as confused as Dean feels, and that’s what tips him off. “Sam?”

The kid stares at him. “ _Dean?_ ”

-

It takes Sharpay a good five twirls to register that she’s not on the stage any more. She’s not even in the school any more. She’s in some grimy, filthy, disgusting warehouse or something, and there’s this guy sleeping on the floor in front of her, and okay, he’s totally hot, but she’s got more important things to worry about right now. Like why she’s suddenly been teleported away from the drama hall, which is going to _completely ruin_ their audition. Or why she’s holding a machete.

Shrieking seems like the appropriate thing to do, so she shrieks. It comes out sounding all wrong, and oh, okay, maybe that wasn’t such a good idea, because the guy’s awake now and he looks pissed. Like, really pissed. Also, he has fangs.

Hot Guy With Fangs lunges at – at – at some floppy-haired guy standing next to her. She didn’t notice him earlier, but she was kind of distracted by the hotness and the ‘Toto, I don’t think we’re in East High any more’ thing, so can you really blame her? Anyway, he’s not as hot as Hot Guy With Fangs, but he’s still pretty hot, and Sharpay’s got a split-second moral dilemma because Slightly Less Hot Guy is just _standing_ there, being wide-eyed and useless, and so she should probably try to protect him from Hot Guy, but she’s not sure whether she can do that because Hot Guy is really, _really_ hot.

She thinks that counts as a moral dilemma, anyway.

And then Hot Guy’s fangs are going for Slightly Less Hot Guy’s neck and something like instinct takes over and she swings the machete and okay, okay, there is _no way_ she should have a Beheading Hot Guys instinct. Beheading hot guys is _not something she does_. It’s something she’s _thought_ about, especially when a particular hot guy and his stupid girlfriend have been stealing the roles that _totally belonged to her and her brother_ , but it’s not something she does.

Slightly Less Hot Guy is staring at her like she’s covered in tentacles, and she wants to say _hey, you’ve got a machete too, you’re not allowed to judge_ , but it’s just hit her that _holy crap_ , she just killed someone. She _killed_ someone. I mean, all right, so she’s pretty sure that that someone was a vampire or something, but it’s still a pretty big deal.

The vampire-or-something thing reminds her that she should probably save the freaking-out until she knows nothing’s about to attack her. She points dramatically at Slightly Less Hot Guy. Everything she does feels a little bit wrong, like her balance is off or something. “You! Show me your teeth!”

Slightly Less Hot Guy (who she guesses she can probably just call ‘Hot Guy’ now, as the original Hot Guy is now minus a head and that makes him considerably less hot) obediently displays his teeth, still looking pretty unnerved. They do not appear to be especially pointy. Sharpay relaxes.

“Who are you?” Hot Guy asks, eyeing her cautiously. “What’s going on?”

“Oh, well, that’s great. I was hoping you’d be able to help with that.” Now that she thinks about it, her voice sounds weird, too. “I was at an audition, and I need to get back to it _right now_.”

“Yeah, me too,” Hot Guy says, with a sigh. “Got no idea what just happened, but I know my sister’ll kill me for it. What’s your name?”

“Sharpay. What’s yours?”

Hot Guy looks at her oddly.

“S-H-A-R-P-A-Y,” Sharpay says, rolling her eyes. “Not like the dog.”

“It’s not that,” Hot Guy says. “It’s just – isn’t that kind of an unusual name? Especially for a guy?”

“You think I’m a _guy?_ ” Sharpay demands.

“Sharpay?”

“What?”

“Uh,” Hot Guy says. “I was just checking to see whether you were Sharpay, but you already told me that’s your name, so I guess you’d have answered to it anyway.”

“ _What?_ ” Sharpay repeats, utterly lost.

“I’m Ryan Evans. Are you my sister?”

-

There are car keys in the jacket Sharpay’s wearing, and they find a shiny black Impala parked outside the warehouse. She thinks it would look stunning in pink. Maybe, she thinks, she can get it painted while they’re trying to figure out what the hell’s happened to them.

They pull into the first public bathroom they find so Sharpay can check herself out in the mirror. She does, indeed, appear to be a man. That will probably make seducing Hot Guy more difficult, she thinks regretfully, before remembering that Hot Guy is, in fact, her brother. And maybe it _wouldn’t_ make things more difficult with her brother, but she’s already gone way too far along this line of thought for comfort.

They’ve both got keys to a room in the Forks Motel, so that’s where they’re headed. At one point they stop to interrogate a passer-by, who tells them they’re in Forks, Washington, and that the motel is in that direction, and that they’re making him incredibly nervous. Sharpay thinks she’s allowed to be a little scary. She’s not having a good day.

-

Eventually, they find the motel and collapse onto their respective beds. Sharpay pulls out a wallet and begins flicking through it, hoping to find some kind of clue to who she is, but either she’s a crimefighting librarian coastguard with seven different names or none of these cards are real.

Rock music suddenly starts playing after they’ve been in the room for a minute or so, and Sharpay digs through her pockets to find a phone. Her number is flashing on the screen, and this situation is probably just about to either be explained or get a whole lot more confusing.

“Who is this?” she demands.

_“That... Ryan or Sharpay Evans?”_ her voice asks, and whoa, okay, that’s weird. Not that the rest of this day has been totally normal or anything, but that is _really_ weird. _“Because if it is, you need to know that having nametags sewn into your socks is not cool. It’s kind of helpful when other people get switched into your bodies and don’t know who the hell they are, but it’s not cool.”_

“This is Sharpay,” she says, attempting to toss her hair back over her shoulder and becoming slightly disconcerted when she remembers that she lacks the hair to toss. “Who is this? Do you have my body? I _need_ that.”

_“I’m Dean Winchester,”_ her voice says. _“From the sound of things, I’m guessing you’re in my body. My brother, Sam, is in Ryan’s, which says things I think we already knew about his sexual preference – ”_

There’s a sound very like someone being smacked on the back of the head, which Sharpay objects to because that’s _her body_ they’re abusing, damn it. She expresses her displeasure loudly down the phone, but she’s not sure Dean’s even still listening.

After a moment, Dean comes back on. _“Listen, is Ryan with you? Maybe as a guy with stupid floppy hair, taller than any human has a right to be?”_

“Yeah, that’s right,” Sharpay says.

_“Good. Sounds like a pretty simple bodyswap, then.”_

“Excuse me, a _simple bodyswap?_ ” she demands, but apparently something has just occurred to Dean.

_“Hey, I think there was still one vampire in the nest when we got switched. Did you take care of it?”_

“Of course,” Sharpay says, switching immediately from confusion and anger to a sense of pleased pride. She’s glad to hear that apparently beheading the hot guy _was_ the right thing to do.

_“Great. So what we need to – ”_

“Wait,” Sharpay interrupts. “When we switched, we were in the middle of an audition. Did you get the part?”

There is a pause.

_“What?”_ Dean asks, incredulous.

“Did you get the part?”

_“No! Of course not! We’d just been **bodyswapped** ; we had to get off the stage so we could figure out what had happened to us.”_

“You didn’t get the part?” Sharpay demands, furious. “You need to get back there and beg Miss Darbus _on your knees_ for another audition. Julio and Romiette are _our parts_ , and I’m not losing them just because some freaky vampire hunters have stolen our bodies.”

_“We all need to be together for the bodyswap reversal to work,”_ Dean says in disbelief. _“You’re telling me you care more about getting a part in some stupid school play than about getting your **bodies** back?”_

“Okay, so we can come to meet you. It’ll take a few days to drive there, so you can get us our rightful roles while you’re waiting for us.”

_“I’m not letting you drive my baby all the way to **Albuquerque** ,”_ Dean says, clearly appalled.

“You call your brother your _baby?_ ” Sharpay asks, no less so.

_“No, you moron, I mean the **car**. You’re not touching her.”_

Sharpay wisely chooses not to mention that they’ve already been driving the Impala. “Okay, you can come to find us here.” She pauses for dramatic effect. “But you’d _better_ get us the lead roles in the school musical, or you’re not getting your bodies back.”

_“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,”_ Dean groans.

“And you can’t let anyone know you’re not us, because then it wouldn’t be _us_ getting the roles, would it? So you’ll need to pretend to be me and Ryan. But especially me.”

_“Why were you and your brother trying out for **romantic leads** anyway, you freak?”_

“It’ll only be for a couple of days,” Sharpay says, brightly, before hanging up.

-

“What the fuck, dude,” Dean complains, still staring at the glaringly pink cellphone in his weirdly female hands.

“What did she say?” Sam asks. “Or... he, I guess, if she was – ”

“It’s ‘she’,” Dean interrupts, firmly. “I’m definitely still a he, so she’s a she. And she wants us to get the lead parts in that thing they were auditioning for before we switch back.”

“I’m not sure I heard that right,” Sam says, after a moment.

“Oh, you heard it right. She’s keeping our bodies hostage until we get the parts for her.”

“But she’s got to co-operate even if we don’t get the parts, right? I mean, they’re going to want their bodies back, too.”

Dean shrugs. “I don’t know, man; she seemed pretty crazy. We’d better get this fixed before they do something to my car.”

“Dean,” Sam says, staring at him, “aren’t you more worried about what might happen to our _bodies?_ ”

“You think I’m going to care about getting my body back if I don’t have an Impala to drive in it?”

“You’re just as insane as she is,” Sam says in disbelief.

“Whatever. We need to get them another audition.”

“I can’t dance, Dean! Or sing! Neither can you!”

“We’ll figure something out,” Dean says, dismissively. “And we’ll need to pretend to be Ryan and Crazy Drama Girl for a couple days.”

They’ve been through a lot, but Sam thinks this is officially the stupidest thing that has ever happened to them.

-

It turns out that Sam’s puppy-eyes technique is even more effective than usual when he’s in this kid’s body. Miss Darbus is strict at first, telling them they’ve had their chance and the rules of theatre must be respected, but Sam puts on his best begging-for-help face and explains that his sister wasn’t feeling well and Darbus bursts into tears and, to Sam’s evident alarm, sweeps him into her arms. Still, the important thing is that Sam’s gotten them an audition and Dean gets to mock him about his new girlfriend, so it all works out.

There’s a copy of the musical score buried under all the makeup and clothes in Sharpay’s locker – it’s not difficult to find; there’s only one locker with a door in that particular shade of burn-your-eyes-out pink – and they learn from it that the music has been written by one of the students: Kelsi Nielsen. Sam thinks she’s probably the person to go to for help, so they ask around to find out where she’s likely to be. Or Sam asks around, at least, because they quickly discover that students seem to find Sam’s new body more approachable than Dean’s.

The girl in front of the piano has brown hair and glasses, cute in a jailbait sort of way. She looks up as they approach and gives Sam a nervous smile, avoiding Dean’s eyes. Dean’s got a feeling this girl is a little afraid of Sharpay, and from his own experience he’s not sure he can blame her.

“Hey, Kelsi,” Sam says, pulling up a chair and sitting in it. He starts off saying her name with a questioning tone and then remembers halfway through that he’s probably supposed to act like he already knows her, so it comes out sounding really weird. Kelsi gives him a strange look.

“What is it?”

Sam gives Dean a slightly desperate glance, but Dean just smirks and gestures for him to carry on.

“Look, Kelsi,” Sam says, turning back to her, “our last audition... didn’t go too well, so we’re giving it another try. Is there any chance we could practise with you?”

Kelsi looks astonished. “You want my help?”

“If that’s not a problem.”

Kelsi’s eyes flicker to Dean. She doesn’t seem quite prepared to believe what Sam’s asking, although Dean can’t see why not. “Does this mean you’re going to use my arrangements?”

“You wrote the musical, right?” Dean asks, confused. “What else would we use?”

She gives him a long, hard, suspicious look, and it occurs to Dean that maybe this isn’t how Sharpay would usually behave. He thinks back to the phone conversation, tries to get into what he imagines is the mindset of the girl who was on the other end, and says, “Just help us, bitch.”

“D— _Sharpay!_ ” Sam hisses, appalled. He turns quickly to Kelsi, who looks more than a little taken aback. “I’m really sorry. My – my sister’s just been having a really bad day, and – well, the audition went wrong, and you know how much getting that part means to her...”

Kelsi relaxes slightly and nods. Apparently, she is well aware of how much getting that part means to Sharpay.

“ _Anyway_ ,” Sam says, glaring at Dean, “I’m sure she’s really sorry.”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. Sorry. You’re probably not a bitch.”

“And we’d still really like your help,” Sam says. He’s trying extra-hard with the puppy-eyes to make up for what Dean said, but Dean’s not sure even that will be enough. “If that’s okay.”

-

Eventually, Kelsi agrees to train them for the audition, although she still seems to suspect that the whole thing is some sort of joke. There are three days before their rescheduled audition, and they’re spending every lunch break rehearsing with her. In the meantime, there are still school things to be done. Sam attends all of Ryan’s classes and makes detailed notes so Ryan will be able to catch up when they switch back. Dean attends a few of Sharpay’s classes and makes eyes at the hot girl sitting next to the guy with gigantic eyebrows.

The rehearsals go better than expected. Sam’s always been a _horrible_ dancer, clumsy and graceless, but apparently with Ryan’s body comes at least some of Ryan’s ability to control his movements. It makes him wonder what he’s left behind in his own body. Probably his ability to control his strength, he thinks, and won’t that be fun if something manages to figure out what’s going on and decides to attack the Winchesters while they’re vulnerable?

Even if nothing attacks _them_ , what if something goes after their bodies? Ryan may have Sam’s strength, but he doesn’t have his knowledge. He could easily be killed.

Sam wishes he could think of this as a vacation from hunting, an opportunity to stop worrying about everything, but it’s not. They need to fix this as soon as possible.

-

Sharpay feels that she’d be able to totally rock this vampire-hunter thing. She’s only taken out one so far, sure, but you just cut their heads off, right? How hard can it be? And swinging that machete made her feel pretty awesome, when she thinks about it.

“Hey,” she says, tapping Ryan on the shoulder. “Let’s kill more vampires.”

Ryan gives her a weird look. “Why?”

“Because vampires are evil,” she says, rolling her eyes. “ _Duh_.”

“I think maybe we should just stay in this room until those guys come to fix this,” he says, after a brief hesitation.

“We’re going to have to go out to get food, right?” Sharpay asks. “So we may as well kill some vampires while we’re doing that.”

Ryan continues to look at her. She makes a frustrated noise.

“ _Ryan!_ This could be my _calling_. Maybe I’m not supposed to be a beautiful actress; maybe I’m supposed to be a _vampire hunter_. A beautiful one.”

“Uh,” Ryan says. “Isn’t vampire hunting... dangerous?”

“They’re not _our_ bodies,” she points out.

“Yeah, but getting killed in them still might be a problem. And those guys are probably going to want them back.”

“ _Fine_ ,” she says, rolling her eyes. “But when we get our bodies back, Ryan, we’re becoming vampire hunters.”

Ryan blinks. “...we are?”

“Maybe we can hunt some of the other things in here as well,” she says, flipping through the journal they've found. “I’m going to need some monogrammed stakes.”

-

Sam’s late to their third rehearsal, which could screw up all their hopes of getting their bodies back, and Dean’s seriously beginning to consider fratricide when his brother bursts onto the stage, breathing hard, his hat askew.

“Where the hell were you?” Dean demands.

Sam doesn’t answer; he stares around with wide eyes at Kelsi, at the empty seats, before dragging Dean into a corner.

“I have a moral dilemma,” he mutters.

Dean rolls his eyes. “That’s new.”

“Seriously, Dean.” He pauses, looking for a way to express himself. “Okay, let’s say Sharpay has a boyfriend. And let’s say he kisses you.”

Dean raises his eyebrows.

“You should probably kiss back, right, because you don’t want him to know something weird’s going on. But isn’t that kind of, I don’t know, wrong?”

“Damn right it’s wrong. I’m not kissing a dude, no matter whose body I’m in.”

Sam glares at him. “What I mean is that Sharpay might not _want_ someone else to kiss her boyfriend in her body. And it’s not really fair to the boyfriend, because he doesn’t know who he’s really kissing.”

“So what you’re saying is that Ryan’s girlfriend kissed you?” Dean asks, grinning.

Sam shifts uncomfortably. “Not exactly.”

“Not exactly?”

“You remember that guy from History class? Chad something?”

It takes Dean a moment to get it. “You’re gay?”

“The sexuality isn’t the _point_ , Dean; the point is that I don’t want to mess up this kid’s relationships. And technically I’m only in the body of a – you’re going to turn this into an innuendo, aren’t you?”

“You’re gay.”

“Dean,” Sam says. “You’re a _girl_.”

“Yeah, but at least I’m a _straight_ girl.”

“If you’re a straight girl, that means you like men,” Sam points out.

There is a pause.

“Damn it,” Dean mutters.

-

As he watches Dean pirouette across the stage, Sam ponders how exactly his life has gotten to the level of weirdness where there’s room for phrases like ‘as he watches Dean pirouette across the stage’ in it. He thinks the fact that Dean’s in someone else’s body might actually make it _less_ weird, because thinking about _Dean’s_ body twirling away up there is just making his head hurt.

The dance routine is still a little clumsy, and Dean goes completely overboard with the singing, belting out each line like an air traffic controller who’s lost his microphone, but somehow they manage to get the part anyway. This is largely, as they will discover a few weeks later, because nobody else auditioned; a couple of kids called Troy and Gabriella were planning to, but Gabriella began acting strangely a few minutes before their audition was scheduled to begin, insisting that her name was Bobby and she definitely wasn’t going to do any goddamn singing.

“Okay,” Sam says, lying on the motel bed. Sharpay was carrying more than enough cash to get a room for a few days; Sam was hesitant about using it at first, but, as Dean pointed out, they probably wouldn’t be able to keep up the charade if they were staying with the family, and the girl definitely owed them money for forcing them to stay like this, and he wasn’t driving any farther than he had to in that _goddamn pink Mustang_. “So now we can get our bodies back?”

“Yeah, but we’re not setting off yet,” Dean says. “I need to go to the bathroom.”

“Dean,” Sam says, staring in sudden horror at the object in Dean’s hand, “is that a _vibrator?_ ”

Dean grins. “Making the most of it, Sammy.”

Dean doesn’t come out of the bathroom for two hours. Sam doesn’t stop crying inwardly for two days.


End file.
